


Everlasting Affinity

by LeviathanCastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel/Demon Relationship, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jealousy, M/M, Sexual Confusion, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Switching, Wing Kink, top and bottom!Dean, top and bottom!castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:19:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3376172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeviathanCastiel/pseuds/LeviathanCastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean makes a deal with a demon to trade his soul for Sam's life, he goes to the pit a year later. But Heaven has other plans for him. Castiel and a few other angels retrieve him from hell, but it leaves Castiel and Dean with a bond neither of them could ever prepare themselves for. With a war erupting between the angels and demons, they must stop the seals from breaking. But as the bond grows stronger, they both feel a pull they can no longer ignore, which leads to many other issues. They must stop Lucifer from rising, while also figuring out what truly matters most to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Everlasting Affinity

Chapter One: Highway to Hell

Dean knew there was nothing he could possibly do to get out of his demonic contract he had made exactly one year ago today. He had already come to terms with the outcome of the deal not long after he made it, since his Sammy would still be alive, even if Dean wasn't around to see it anymore. His soul was a small price to pay for the last person Dean ever truly loved to live on. He only went along with finding a way out of the deal to please Sam, and bring him closure on the matter. Dean was going to die. Hell was knocking on his doorstep, not bothering to be asked for an invite inside. Dean wasn't afraid though. No hunter ever had a happily ever after. But it gave Dean peace knowing his brother had a chance to be happy again. To resume life without his older brother, who had dragged him down once he stepped back into Sam's life that night that Dean snuck into Sam's apartment. An eternity in hell was what Dean deserved for tearing Sam away from his normal, happy life.

When Sam had died, Dean felt that he had too. Sam was the reason he breathed, the reason he kept fighting on. With both of his parents dead, and no wife or children, Dean couldn't think of any other reason to really be alive. Sam was his world from the moment he was born. He always looked up to Sam. Figuratively and now, literally. His little brother has grown up so much, so very fast. Part of Dean missed his sweet innocent brother before he had found Dad's journal when he left it once before he went on a "job", leaving Dean to explain that the monster under the bed was usually so much worse than a bedtime story. Dean hated the fact that Sammy had to grow up just like Dean had. It was no life for a child. In fact, there was no time to be a child. Once you knew what was really in the dark, you never got to turn away from it. All Dean has ever wanted for Sam was for him to be happy.

Dean prayed that Sammy let him go once he got dragged down under. He hoped he would find peace and go find a girl and fall in love. He wanted Sam to go get married and have a bunch of rugrats with a mop of brown hair on their heads, just like their father. The thought of Sam living the apple pie life, the one that Dean used to make fun of Sam for wanting, is where his happy place resided.

Truth be told, Dean was tired of this life. Saving people, hunting things. The family business. Dean always lived by this, but lately he could see how much bullshit it really was. Sure, they saved a few people, but everywhere they went they also left behind so much pain and lose that Dean questioned if it was even worth it at times. The people that the brother's couldn't save, the ones who right under their noses, just barely out of reach, are what haunted Dean at night. It weighed him down like an anchor tied to his ankle that was sucking him down into an endless abyss of pain and sorrow. Deeper and deeper, it took him – case after case – and as the bottom of the trench neared, Dean knew he was ready for it to let it swallow him. He would be able to let go of it all. The guilt of making Sam miserable with him in the life of a hunter, all the families that visiting him in his nightmares that he had failed, the gripping pain of knowing he would never see his mother again and say that he loved her one last time.. All this would be gone once Dean was. Bobby would be able to take it easy for a bit, without the Winchesters constantly asking for favors. Dean welcomed hell when he thought about all this being lifted from his shoulders.

Bobby and Sam were all Dean had anymore, and Dean was emotionally so sick and tired of pulling them down and letting them down. They both had gotten very little sleep as they neared the date of Dean's deliverance to hell. They were on to something, they thought, that would get Dean out of his contract. If it didn't work and this would finally come to end, they would be able to rest. Dean almost smiled at the thought of it. The two people he loved more than anyone, Bobby being more of a father than he had ever actually had, would be so much better off without the presence of the older Winchester boy. It was like a knife in his chest realizing this. Dean ruined everything he touched but he would no longer have to worry about that after tonight. 

Dean had told them over and over again to stop looking for a way out, because there simply wasn't one. Maybe Dean just didn't want to be saved.. If Dean did survive the night, he wasn't sure he could live with himself with all the thoughts that have been buzzing around in his head since he made the deal. Guilt tore him from the inside and it threatened to finish him off before the hellhounds would have a chance to.. But he had to try and go along with Sam and Bobby's plan because if the tables were turned, Dean wouldn't rest until he found a way to save Sam or Bobby from the fiery pit. Even though, Dean just wanted to lie down and take what he had coming for him, he pretended to believe that they could have him soul tonight. For their sake, it was the least Dean could do for them.

Dean always pictured himself going down guns blazing. He wanted his die doing the thing he was best at. Hunting. He was okay with the fact that he might never return from a job, or an exorcism. That was his life. He was supposed to die fighting, hopefully taking whatever killed him with it. This was never how Dean pictured the end, but then again, life was never going the way he planned for it to go. It surprised him just how willing he was to let his body get ripped into without so much as a shot fired. But Dean was ready to do just that if Sam would allow him to. That wasn't happening though.

Dean had wanted to spend his last couple of weeks with a bottle of whiskey in hand and buried in women until the darkness took him. He wanted to enjoy the last few weeks to the best of his ability in a drunken and lustful stupor before he became a play toy for the ugly bastards downstairs. Booze and women were easy for Dean. The haziness the alcohol gave him and the pure human instinct to find what pleasure he could in a woman's body was simple and Dean understood it perfectly. It would allow the time to flow easily and allow him to bury his emotions until he bowed out for good. What Dean didn't get was how to deal with the guilt that ate at him when it came to the situation at hand. So he wanted to forget about it until time ran out.

But instead, Dean was with Bobby, Sam, and his little brother's demon whore, Ruby, trying one last time to save Dean's soul from everlasting torture. They were plotting to kill the powerful demon that held Dean's contract named Lilith. She was rumored to be the very first demon and whenever she was spoken about, it was with fear and respect. Dean only had maybe an hour left, maybe less, before the hounds came after him and the hallucinations had already begun. Dean knew they had no hope of killing the contract holder. He only wished that Sam and Bobby remained unharmed in this fight and Dean could leave this world without having to worry about if they were safe or not. '

Sam and Dean stood in the house of the family that Lilith had been tormenting for months. The beautiful home was now littered with debris and smelled so much of sulfur that Dean almost gagged. A large godfather clock began to pound at their eardrums, like a death sentence being repeated over and over again. Dean had no time left. It was midnight and he was going to die. He glanced over at Sam with a look of reassurance and tried his best to shoot Sam a calming smile. I'm ready for this, Sammy. I have been for a while. A single tear fell from Dean's cheek. Sam stared back as he nearly choked back a sob and he mouthed back no. Sam's expression ripped Dean's heart out at that second and he just wanted to reach out and comfort his younger brother one last time. Even if he didn't need it anymore.

The moment was ruined by Ruby ripping open the barricaded door with a smug look on her face and Dean knew instantly it wasn't Ruby in that meatsuit anymore. Her eyes glowed white and she walked with a cockiness Dean instantly despised. Of course the bitch would possess the old vessel of a demon he already hated. She gazed at him triumphantly. "Hello, Dean."

She had a predatory look in her stark white eyes as she sized up the older Winchester. The barking laugh made Dean cringe. "Dean Winchester. Just moments from his deathbed and not even fearful. What an honor to witness. Yet how typical. You Winchesters never did value your pathetic little lives. Always throwing them away for the lesser good." Her smirk then turned to Sam, who was frozen beside Dean.

Sam's eyes were focused on the blonde demon ahead of him, and Dean could see how tightly his jaw was clenched. Like a cat swatting at a ball of yarn, Lilith cast Sam aside and he slammed into a large bookcase that threatened to fall on top of him. Dean snarled for her to leave Sam out of this. This wasn't his fight. Her glare was like daggers as she slammed Dean into the small table in the room and pinned him there without lifting a finger. Ruby's knife slipped from Dean's grasp and fell uselessly to the floor. Dean didn't want Lilith to be the last image in his head when he died, so he focused on Sam at the same moment she turned her attention to him as well. She let out a snarling laugh and seemed to pet the air beside her.

"Sick him boys." Her voice rang out and then all Dean could hear was the howls and sounds of his clothes and flesh being torn apart. He screams where inhuman and something he didn't recognize, but he refused to tear his gaze away from his baby brother, even as he could feel claws digging deep inside his chest and consciousness threatened to take him. Even the deep gashes that streaked red across his flesh couldn't compare the pain in his gut from the look on Sam's face. He looked lost and hopeless. He was powerless to help the man who gave him everything.

Even now, with Lilith looking at Sam like he was something to eat and Dean was being gutted, Dean wanted to protect Sam. Dean lived his whole life making sure Sam was safe, and he would never be able to do that again. The fact that Sam had to watch his older brother - who was always so strong and did so much for them - die like this shattered Dean into a million pieces. He didn't want Sam to see him like this. He didn't want this to be what Sam remembered last about him. Meeting Sam's bloodshot eyes, Dean could see the pain in them as he watched helplessly.

Lilith took pride in her work and the pain radiating from both of the boys brought her so much joy, she almost smiled. She was tearing them both apart, and one of them, she didn't even have to touch. "Your turn, kiddo." She attempted to use her demon powers on Sam, to kill him instantly, but Sam was so full of anger and grief that it had no effect on him. Sam realized this and through his tears, he glowered at the demon.

"You can't hurt me, you bitch." Sam was reaching for the demon blade and in an instant; Lilith came gushing out of Ruby's old vessel in a thick black smoke. Dean closed his eyes at that moment. Sam would be okay. He was more than capable now to protect himself. His screams died down as he let the hounds take him and he vaguely heard Sam shout his name over and over again. One last smile rested on his lips, just for Sam, and the dark closed around Dean for good.

His family would be safe. Bobby and Sam would move on.

Safe.

From Lilith. From Ruby. From Dean.


	2. Heaven's Decree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zachariah continued on, “Good. Well then you would understand the issue when I tell you that Dean Winchester's soul now resides locked deep within the pit.” There was audible gasps in the room at this. That was impossible. He was destined to go to heaven since before he was even born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The direction that this chapter took was totally unplanned. I was originally going to skip to Dean busting out of hell, but when I had the idea to write in Castiel's POV, I decided to go with it and I'm glad I did. Enjoy!

Everlasting Affinity

Chapter Two: Heaven's Decree

The war between heaven and hell would never truly end. Angels and demons would kill or be killed until the end of time. Every angel knew their fate would come sooner or later. That was their duty though. They were all soldiers of the lord, ready to throw down their lives protecting heaven, all it's souls, and the humans down on earth. Freedom wasn't a work most angels knew how to comprehend, since they all took orders from a higher power all their life and was never allowed to question it. They did as they were told, and succeeded or died trying. 

But when Castiel wasn't out and fighting heavenly battles, he often went a visited Heaven's different paradises in the eyes of different souls. Currently, he was in a woman's heaven that had died due to a car accident that wasn't even destined to happen. Every now and then, the order of life and death would get tampered with and poor souls like this one would feel the impact of it. She was a nurse in her human life. Helping people was her passion, what she used to motivate her every single day. Her paradise focused around saving lives at the hospital that she had worked at, mainly ones that got into a horrible car accident. They always survived, no matter how bad their injuries. She would go to the homeless shelter that she volunteered at as a human after her shift was over at the hospital and aid them as much as possible. She was a truly beautiful soul. She then went home to her husband and child every night and do nothing but shower them with attention. Something she wasn't actually able to do. Her Nirvana was filled with so much love and compassion, it almost made Castiel wish the angels could understand those emotions more. Her heaven would start over and be almost the exact same every day. He sensed that this was her life before her accident. She pretended the accident never even happened, and that's where she had her peace. 

Watching her sent a slight pang of sorrow down deep inside Castiel for the young soul. Most angels felt little to no human emotion, but Castiel was more in tune with them due to the fact he spent most of his free time in their memories and studies they way the feel about different situations so acutely. Part of Castiel longs to be able to experience human emotions in full. To be able to love, make his own decisions, and deal with whatever coincidences came out of them. But he was a warrior of God, and no angel could dream of such things. 

When the nurse puts her adolescent child to bed, she lays down in bed with her husband, who then cradles her into him, kissing her passionately. He begins to make love to her, worshiping every inch of her body slowly. He whispers words in her ear that brings her overwhelming happiness.

Castiel quickly takes his leave, unable to witness anymore. Even though the human soul had no idea an angel is watching her, Castiel feels like he would have been violating her if he had watched any longer. In her moments of love and passion, that was only for her to experience. It was more than that though. Watching the woman be with someone she lad loved wholeheartedly made Castiel feel empty and alone. In the back of his mind, he wished he had someone to share that kind of intimacy with. He wanted to share a love with someone so special that his Grace would quiver inside him everytime her was around the one that loved him back.

As Castiel searched for a new heaven to reside in for the time being, his thoughts continued to linger on the idea of love. No angel would truly grasp the concept of love, never felt what it was like to love or be loved back. He thought he knew what his Father's love felt like since he was told from the time he was brought into existence, before humans where even a thought, that God loved all his children with an undying force. But Castiel has never even seen his Father. Sometimes, part of him wonders if God truly exists, or if the superior angels were controlling them all and filling their minds with lies that they knew no angel would dare question. If God really did exists, it seemed to him that he abandoned them a millennium ago. Why else would the chaos go on with absolutely no help or real word of God?

Castiel gasps when he realizes the thoughts pounding their way into his head and quickly banishes them. Angels have been cast out of heaven for such thoughts, less even, and Castiel was a loyal servant of the good Father that gave him life. He was respected in heaven, sometimes even feared by some. He was known as the angel who would never fail. Every battle he has ever led ended in victory. There were a few that weighed heavily in evil's favor, but Castiel always refused to retreat. His loses were always minimal, even in battles like that. He led his garrison without fear or doubt that they would always do and succeed in every order that was given to them. Losing this respect was something Castiel wasn't prepared to lose. He spent his entire life achieving such high revere.

His garrison was once led by a beautiful angel named Anna. She was valiant in battle, and a wonderful leader. Castiel had always followed in her footsteps when it came to battle tactics and getting his angels out of dangerous situations. But once she rebelled and fell to earth, Castiel was granted the garrison in his leadership. While he was still in Zachariah's command, he still was the one who led his close allies Uriel, Balthazar, Rachel, Hester, Inias, and a few others into bloodstained battles and he never let them down. Not like Anna had when she abandoned them all in the fall. Leading the garrison was a privilege and an honor that Castiel would not let go. He would not disappoint his allies again by letting his doubts lead him down the same path Anna took. 

Castiel found himself in his favorite heaven. He was always so fascinated by the simple things that make humans happy, and this one brought it all into prospective for Castiel. This soul's paradise was so uncomplicated and pure that it always calmed Castiel right down to his core. He came her often just to relax and bask in it. This paradise always took place in a large, open meadow filled with beautiful plants and lively insects. Flowers bloomed, leaving a pleasant aroma that filled Castiel with warmth. Trees grew tall, leaving large shaded areas to rest in. Animals roamed free here, nothing around here threatened to harm them, so they weren't even skittish when you neared them. The buzzing of bees would fill the air as they pollinated all the flamboyant flowers in the meadow. Castiel could watch the bees forever. It brought him happiness watching them. So simple, so beautiful. Nothing was complicated in the life of a bee, and Castiel envied that. The wind was breezy, but left a pleasant feeling on the skin and it peacefully glided over all that it touched. The meadow was the most peaceful place on heaven and earth. 

This particular memory belonged to an autistic boy who had drown in a bathtub in 1953 when he was only 10. Castiel looked at the boy as a splendid and untainted soul. He never fathomed any hate or harbored any resentment to anyone. If there was ever a soul to have eternal happiness, it would be this one. It pained Castiel to know that the drunken father of the boy is that one who had drowned him. Looking into the boy's memories, the father used to beat him and hate that he had a disability. He used to tell the boy that God had no love for kids that had mental issues. But that was not the case, God loved all his children, and Castiel felt that if he had ever actually loved anything, it would be this boy. The dad never showed the boy an ounce of love, and in 1953, he decided to rid himself of his child burden and kill the boy for himself. But even with the constant bashing from his father, the boy never hated anything, never felt any anger. The world would be a better place with more souls like this one's.

 

Castiel watched with a slight smile was the boy would fly kites, climb trees, or pick flowers. Such innocence just can't not be appreciated when all he has ever known is violence. He observed as the kid picked every single brightly colored flower he could – one of each color. He then admired his collection of flowers and took them to a small steady flowing stream nearby and watch the water take the petals away, one by one, with a look of awe on his young face. 

This is why Castiel was here so often. Between all the blood he has shed and screams he's caused over the thousands of years, this was the one place that brought him peace. He could think freely and not ever worry about the next evil creation he would have to kill. Even though angels didn't sleep or get tired, he was able to rest his mind here. He continued to watch the boy absentmindedly as he sat on a large rock in the center of the green, blossoming meadow and let his thoughts drift. 

He thought of love once again for the third time of the day. Images of the nurse and her husband's fervent kiss flickered around in Castiel's head. A strong emotion came over him just then. Sadness, he guessed, not an emotion he was familiar with. Castiel has never been with anyone in that manner. No angels had ever approached him in such a way, and he never attempted to try to reach out to another of his kind either. Human relations were strictly off-limits to angels and any who tried to pursue that sin would be cast out of heaven with their wings painfully ripped out. He had heard that the pain from that alone, not counting the fall, was more agonizing than death itself. Castiel shuddered at the thought as he glanced over his shoulder at his black wings, running a hand through them. He has always gotten weird looks toward his wings when he would meet an angel who has never seen them before. Some of his superiors say that the black wings on an angel was off putting, and a bad omen. But regardless of the cruel words directed at his wings, they were still his. They were the only ones he'd ever have. Nothing would ever be worth losing them over. Not to mention the fact that his Grace would mostly be taken as well. 

Castiel realized as he played with a large feather that had fallen out, that he wished he had taken the time to find an angel-mate. Eternity was awfully lonely when you had no one to spend it with. Well, not fully alone, since he had his garrison to lead and he was quite close with a few of the members of it. It still didn't compare to having someone to truly open up to and spend his angelic lifetime with. Someone he could hold and call his own. Someone who thought his wings were beautiful.

Castiel smiled to no one in particular and hummed softly at the thought of another being running their fingers through his feathers. He shivered as his Grace began to burn slightly inside of him. Castiel closed his eyes as he ran his hand his fingertips across the thin region of skin that was buried beneath the many layers of feathers he possessed. He pictured someone who loved him doing instead of him and his Grace burned a little brighter as a sigh of content escaped from his lips. 

He was too distracted and caught up in his own thoughts to sense the angel that had flown in and was approaching him. His hand immediately dropped from his wing when he heard a load grunt, waiting for Castiel to acknowledge their presence. His Grace warmed him from head to toe from embarrassment. He looked up to see Zachariah staring down at him and he stood in respect of the superior angel. 

“Your assistance is needed, Castiel,” he stated, expressionlessly, in Enochian, the language of the angels. That's how it was for most angels. No politeness or feeling in their tone. Just straight to the point and matter-of-factually. Castiel nodded, not bothering to ask any questions. He knew Zachariah would elaborate more in private. Besides, angels do as their leaders were told. Nothing was ever to be asked of them. Command and complete, or be thrown out of heaven. It was that simple. 

He flew Castiel to a small, stark white room where a good part of his garrison stood they waiting for them. Castiel acknowledged them with a nod and they respectfully did the same before paying full attention to what Zachariah was about to say to them. As usual, they were all ready for combat the second the order was given. 

“God was given us an assignment that will take all of us. It is extremely important that we carry this out immediately.” Zachariah's voice filled the room with such an authoritative tone that none of the angels dared look away from him even for a second. “You all have heard of the Winchester family, yes?” Castiel's face scrunched up in confusion. Of course he's heard of the Winchesters, every angel knew who they were. The family had been on heaven's radar for a long time. Things have gone quiet with them ever since John escaped from hell and now resided in heaven. Castiel has heard no work of his two sons that was still left alive. John left hell without breaking the first seal and now Dean would become the Righteous Man now. Besides, this bit of information, Castiel had no idea why Zachariah would be mentioning them now. He wasn't even aware of how old the boys were now or what they were doing. That wasn't ever Castiel's place. 

With the nods of the other angels next to Castiel, Zachariah continued on, “Good. Well then you would understand the issue when I tell you that Dean Winchester's soul now resides locked deep within the pit.” There was audible gasps in the room at this. That was impossible. He was destined to go to heaven since before he was even born. Unable to contain his shock, Castiel asks, “How was he taken to hell?”

Zachariah faced him now and fixed Castiel with a grim expression. “He made a deal with a demon a year ago to save his abomination of a brother's life and the demon collected his soul three days ago. The demons did well to hide this contract from us, because they knew we would have done everything possible to break it. We have to retrieve his soul from the pit before he spills blood and unintentionally breaks the first seal.” One Winchester already dodged bringing on the apocalypse by avoiding the fate of giving in to the pain of hell, but the chances of that happening again were near impossible. Everyone broke eventually in hell. The first seal shall be broken by a righteous man when he sheds blood in hell. Even a soul such as Dean Winchester's would break in just a matter of time. The torture will become too much to bear eventually and he would become the thing that was once doing the torturing. Since the demons failed to break John Winchester the first time they had a righteous man, Castiel knew they would try even harder this time around. 

“We need to leave as soon as possible. We cannot let the first seal fall, Zachariah. Once one falls, it'll be a matter of time before they all do.” Rachel spoke up after a moment of silence as their Superior let them evaluate the terrible news.

“You're exactly right, Rachel. Which is why we leave within the hour. I need each of you, my most trusted and honorable angels, to fly with me into the fiery pits of hell and gather the soul of the righteous and deliver him safely back to earth. He can live a normal life again and come to heaven when he dies how he's destined to. He won't even have to know we exist if we do this right, we can wipe his memory of hell and all his families if needed. But saving that seal is our priority.” Castiel stared straight ahead at Zachariah as he delivered the decree. It weighed heavy on him and he thought about the possibility of failure. Not many angels that entered hell ever lived to come back and tell the tale. But that wasn't what he was worried about. There was no record of an angel saving a soul from hell ever, and no one knew the outcome of being pulled out on the soul or the angel and how it would affect the lives of them. He hoped that Dean would be able to live on normally afterwards, but Castiel also worried about the safety of his brothers and sisters that would be aiding him on this mission. If they were too late, and the first seal does fall, what Rachel said would become reality quickly. The remaining 65 seals out of the possible 600 would fall rapidly. There wasn't enough angels to prevent this. When the 66th seal breaks, Lucifer's cage walls disappear and he is free to walk the earth, and he will surely bring all of hell with him in his wrath. Thus begins the apocalypse of the human race and a battle over heaven eventually that they could not afford.

A surge of determination pulsed into Castiel just then and his Grace shined within him. The others sensed the change in him and turned their attention towards the source. He met each of their eyes as he said, “You heard him. We leave now and we have to succeed. Our Father chose us for a reason, and we will come Home with a victory. We will pull the Winchester soul out and protect the seal. We won't disappoint our Father or any of our brothers and sisters. Do not lose focus on our mission, and always pay attention to your surroundings. He demons won't agree with us being in their territory and do everything in their wicked power to keep us out of their pit. They won't let us retrieve the righteous soul easily. I want no loses in the battle. We will fight, and we will be victorious. I can't imagine better angels to accompany me in this.” Castiel gaze praised each member of his garrison and filled each of them with hope and strength. Castiel's leadership was something they each took pride in following. Zachariah looked over at Castiel, approving of his wise words to his garrison. His wings spread a littler wider at the silent praise from his superior. 

With each celestial being armed with their special angel blades, they charged the gate of hell by storm and killed all who tried to stop them from doing so. Entering hell was nothing Castiel could have ever prepared himself for. The never-ending screams from countless souls pierced Castiel's ears with such a force that he wanted to fly right back around and never come back. The putrid smell of burnt and bleeding flesh, old and new, threatened to embed itself in his head till the end of time. Being a celestial being in this world of pure evil left him feeling lost and nearly defenseless. But he fought away all of this. He wasn't defenseless. He had his blade, the overwhelming Grace inside him that could kill demons instantly, and several of his heavenly allies beside him. He had to keep going, even if that meant ignoring all the tortured souls all around him, as far as the eye could see. They aren't the reason the angels were here in this god forsaken place. 

When Castiel's Grace began to sear him from the inside, he knew that the demons were close and knew the angels were in their territory. Gripping his blade tightly, he crouched into a battle stance and felt him companions do the same beside him. They were in a formation that would not allow a demon to slip past them undetected or be able to target any angel by themselves. No one was going to get ambushed and take them by surprise. The had to hurry and save the soul, but couldn't risk losing the little bit of power they had. 

The fight erupted almost immediately, the angels fully prepared for the jump. Each of the angels used their blades with such grace, power, and precision, Castiel almost felt like they could end this quickly. Sometimes, they became too overwhelmed and have to use their Grace to get out of the tight situation, but each time they had to, it left them feeling weaker and weaker, so it was only in case of dire emergency. As Castiel pushed his blade into a demon's chest, he felt power surging through him. This is what he was made for and he was damn good at it. Quickly pulling his blade out, he caught another in the throat as it tried to jump on the angel. Castiel was one of Heaven's most feared angels when it came to killing. There was no angel of his stature that could compare to the angel's lithe movements and his focused tactics. Which is one of the reasons Castiel was always on the field fighting beside his brothers and sisters. 

 

The shriek of the demon's screams was forever burnt into Castiel's head. He despised the sounds of the dying evil creatures, but hated them even more alive. Their terrifying screams could make a human deaf while they were in their true form. 

Two months into the fight, and they received their first loss. Samandriel, a capable and great warrior had sacrificed himself saving Uriel whenever he became too overwhelmed in demons to fight anymore. They had no time to grief though, they were nearing the center of the pit, where the righteous soul would be locked away safe and sound. They had to get to him before it was too late, so they pushed on and would mourn after they returned to heaven. 

Another month of vicious war raged in hell and they were just a little away from their goal. They had been in hell the equivalent to 30 years by now, and it has taken a toll on them all. Every angel was visably weaker, but till fighting with everything that they had. Castiel was about to push his blade into the stomach of a hideous demon, when he began talking to the angels in a shriek and Castiel paused with his blade pressing firmly into the demon's flesh. “You have failed. The Righteous has began to spill blood and he enjoying it. We win, angel.” The demon let out a hiss as Castiel pushed the blade fully into his gut. His Grace burned in anger at the words and willed the words to be a falsehood. But deep down, he didn't think the demon had been lying to them. 

“We have to get him Castiel, regardless if that was true or not. If the seal has already been broken, there's nothing we can do now, except to grab the soul and get out. He can help us stop the apocalypse. We did all we could, Castiel. Let us finish this.” Zachariah didn't look as if he had much hope in his own words, but Castiel nodded anyways and numbly fought on. 

Four months, 40 years, had passed in total when they found Dean Winchester's soul. It was so damaged that it was barely recognizable. The soul had been tortured to the point that it had no idea who it was anymore. Once righteous, was now holding a blade and carving away at a screaming victim with a monstrous smile plastered on his face. Castiel felt a total loss now and he burned inside so hot that it began to be painful. He could sense the demons laughing at their failure – his failure – all around him. At that moment, Castiel didn't care if he died right there in hell's pit. He's never had to cope with failure, and he didn't want to start now.

Zachariah gripped Castiel hard to pull him out of his misery as the others continued to fight off the waves of demons coming at them. “Grab him, Castiel. We have to go. We won't last much longer down here. Our Grace is wearing down.” It wasn't a lie. Each day that passed he felt the Grade inside him burning a little less bright. Nothing coming from hell could nurture their Grace, for they were far too pure. 

In a split second, Castiel was by Dean's side, ripping the blade from out of his hands and throwing it aside. Their eyes met as Castiel gripped his shoulder and something flashed inside of them. Their was so much hate in the glare, something that didn't match his once beautiful soul, that Castiel wondered if he would ever find his true self ever again. But the spark in his eyes the second Castiel grabbed him sent a shiver of hope deep within him. With no time left to spare, Castiel flew Dean away with the other angels trailing him toward the direction of the gate of hell, ignoring every demon they could. They already achieved that they wanted, so most demons stayed back and let them pass. It only took them a couple of weeks to break through the gate a second time. Castiel's Grace burned hotter than ever as he passed through the gate. It almost made him stop completely and beg for death. He has never experience this level of pain in his entire life, but he kept flying for Dean's sake, and he swore he could feel Dean's soul brush against his Grace the very second that they escaped hell.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the nurse mentioned in the early part of the story hasn't died yet in the show, but since her death isn't going to happen in my fic, I decided to put her story in here anyways. I also changed the autistic man in this fic to be a boy, so I could tell the side story to it that I wanted to! Writing in Castiel's POV was a lot of fun, and I hope y'all enjoyed it as well. Thank you! Everything changes from here on out when it comes to the original Supernatural storyline.


	3. Raised From Perdition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He gasped as a wave of strong emotions fell over him. His spirit calmed steadily down, as is flowed through his body. It seemed to come from his very core. Images began to spark around his head, weak at first, but soon Dean could only see the pictures that were being forced onto him. His own eyes were useless while Castiel took over. Once he was able to process what he was seeing, he nearly cried out at what he was seeing. Through the angel's eyes, he saw how broken and damaged his soul became when he was discovered in hell. Even through all the harm that his soul endured, it was still sickeningly beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it is taking me so long to post new chapters! Between work and moving, I don't have much free time. I promise I'll keep posting as often as possible. Thank you for reading!

Everlasting Affinity

Chapter Three: Raised From Perdition 

Dean jolted awake, gasping for air. Sweat glistened all over his body and his sheets were heavy and damp from it. He felt like he had just escaped a nightmare that lasted for decades, and his insides hurt to the point that he felt like something was just beneath his skin, digging their talons deep inside of him, ripping him apart piece by piece. He desperately clawed at his body, trying to get the pain to dull down as it got worse by the second. As his hand passed over his stomach, he felt a warm liquid and his eyes dropped to his aching body. His clothes weren't even identifiable as he looked over all the shreds that were tore into them. They were stained with old and fresh blood in an ugly brownish red color. He cried out in a sobbing choked noise as the watched new gashes being sliced along his rib cage and suddenly Dean wasn't in bed anymore. He was tied down to a metal gurney and it was entirely too hot in the room. It didn't take long for him to realize why. Flames began to lick at his flesh from underneath the antimonial deathbed, growing larger by the second. His screams became animalistic as the smell of his own burning flesh filled the small room he was trapped in. The fire wrapped around his body almost seductively, covering every inch of his fervent body in red-hot kisses. He wanted to beg for the pain to stop, He'd do anything for it to stop. He didn't care anymore what he had to do, he just couldn't bear it anymore. Then, as quickly as it was brought on, the flames vanished, and Dean was laying in bed gasping harder than before. His body was whole again. He opened his eyes again, fearing that the torture would resume and he was just being toyed with. It didn't, and all Dean could smell was not the burning of flesh, but the horrid smell of cheap air freshener. 

That's when he decided to pay attention and take in his surroundings. He was in a secluded motel room that he had no memory of checking in to and in it was only a single twin bed, a bedside table, and a small bathroom in the corner. Why would he have a room with only one bed? Where's Sam? Dean asked himself and then it hit him. Flashes of the being pinned down as a hellhound used him as a personal chew toy until he was a dead, bloody mess that no one could possibly identify bounced around in his skull. He remembered the torture he endured for what felt like an eternity in hell by a demon named Alastair. His breath quickened as scenes from Alastair's torture flickered beneath his eyelids and he clutched at the sheets in panicked fear. The vision he had a few moments ago was a memory, Dean realized. He let out a shaky breath as the last quarter of the time he spent downstairs resurfaced. He had broken down and became the very thing that was torturing him each second of the day. He couldn't take the pain anymore. That memory was the exact moment Dean gave in to the never-ending claws digging themselves deep in Dean's soul. It wasn't even the most painful torture session, far from it. He had just snapped from it all though. He was loosing what little he had left of a mind by the point he surrendered over to the demon. He couldn't take being gutted every single day and then being put back together piece by piece just for it to start all over again all for Alastair's enjoyment. Dean finally took him up on his offer and picked up on of the many sharp torture tools that had been used on him countless times, and then he spilled blood for himself. Many souls became victim of Dean's brand of torture. He didn't just torture his prey with physical pain, but would use their memories to target their weaknesses and use that against them as well, basking in their emotional and physical misery. His mentor would always watch with an approving gleam in his black eyes, encouraging Dean to lose himself even more in the glory of dominating the souls and take it one step further each time. And lose himself did he. It didn't take long before Dean began to enjoy to screams that he caused. It began to become something more than something he did to keep from getting tortured himself. The sound of a blade that he was wielding piercing through another's flesh made him smile. The sickening slick noise it would make as he twisted the sharp object inside his victim became an addiction for Dean. He needed it. The crack of bones sent a unexplainable thrill up his spine and made him shiver just thinking about it. They all deserved it.

“No!” Dean sat straight up in the bed with his head in his hands, warm tears stained his face, “that's not who I am. I'm not a monster..”

A flutter of wings rang in Dean's ears and a gruff, deep voice filled the suffocating silence. Dean's spirit seemed to lift immediately. “Not anymore.” Dean's eyes snapped up in alarm to meet deep blue ones that belonged to a complete stranger. He leaned against the wall, starring openly at Dean, unsure of what he was about to do. He wore a long, beige colored trench coat that stopped right below the knee, a crumpled white dress shirt, a blue crooked tie that almost matched the color of his eyes, and black slacks. Something was really off about this man, not considering the fact he appeared out of thin air in front of Dean. 

“Who are you?” Dean demanded, sounding stronger than he actually felt. He groped desperately for the gun he always kept underneath his pillow but soon discovered that there was nothing there and his heart began to pound loud enough he could hear it. The man took a step forward and Dean nearly choked at what he saw. The man was beautiful, probably in his early thirties. His eyes seemed to look straight into Dean's very soul and was the most piercing blue than he has ever seen on a human being. Around his entire body, he was framed with a weird glow than made him even more beautiful. Dean has never seen anything like it. It almost called out to Dean, wanted to be closer to him, comfort him. But that's not what captured his attention the most. Dean's body became rigid with fright as the man spread his solid black wings across the room that was somehow hidden completely behind his back just seconds ago. They glowed even brighter than the rest of him and illuminated the dark motel room with enough light that it could have been the middle of the day, though the alarm clock next to Dean said otherwise. The dark wings practically shimmered as they stretched almost from wall to wall in front of Dean. Even through his fear, they were perhaps the most stunning thing Dean has ever seen. 

“I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.” He said, his tone was all business, but his voice held so much power in that second it almost caused Dean to shudder. His wings fluttered for a split second as the man stared down at Dean, or more directly at his shoulder and Dean glanced at what had the winged man's attention. A large handprint was raised on his skin, but it didn't look entirely human. The fingers were much too long, and there was only four fingers attached to the palm mark. Dean looked at the man in bewilderment.

“What.. What are you? Why are you here? Why do you have wings?” He had so many questions that he needed answered to, but couldn't think how to word them. It took several moments for Dean to stammer these queries at him. The man's brow instantly furrowed deep in confusion and he snapped his wings to his side in a split second, hiding them away, but not completely. 

“You can see my wings? Human's can't perceive them.. They are far too pure from human eyes.. No mortal man has even seen an angel's wings.” The gaze he had Dean locked in was so strong that he couldn't pull away from it. An angel? Is this guy fucking joking? Angels don't exist. God and all his feathery birds were all just bedtime stories that parents told their kids to make them feel safe at night. Some kids just didn't stop believing once they got older. Dean never even started to believe. Yet.. here he stood, and Dean couldn't come up with a better explanation for the wings the man now kept pressed tight against his side, or the abnormal luminescence that radiated from him. The glow seemed to brighten by each passing second.

“Can you stop with the weird aura shit, dude? It's becoming a little unbearable you know.. You could make a man blind doing that.” The angel flinched visibly at Dean's words and the glow dulled down. He examined the angel's face and found nothing but confusion. He no longer was looking Dean in the eyes in his bizarre way of staring, but instead looking at the floor with a baffled look on his face as he began to pace. He allowed his raven colored wings to relax a bit and the underside of them dragged the carpeted floor. He spoke to himself in a whisper, but still loudly enough for Dean to make out the words.

“I never imagined the bond would work through both ways. This is unheard of. Impossible. No angel has ever been bonded with a human before, so why now. I can't fathom this. The others won't like this either..” the mumbling stopped and Dean began to get annoyed. “Why in the hell are you talking to yourself over there? You know I'd like to know what the deal here is as well right? This involves us both. What do you mean, 'bond'”?

The angel squinted at him, absolutely perplexed. “I..wasn't talking to myself Dean. Those were my thoughts. You heard my thoughts.” Dean was astonished by this and the angel sighed, looking unsure of the whole situation, but wanting to give Dean some closure on this as well. He captured Dean in a unwavering gaze. “I'm going to start from the beginning. I'm not absolutely sure of what's going on here either, but you deserve to know what little I do. Ask whatever questions you please..this might take awhile..” He stopped momentarily and waited until Dean gave him a weary nod. The angel continued on, as much as it looked like he wanted to be anywhere but explaining this to Dean. “My name is Castiel. Your family has been under heaven's watch for a very long time. Generations. If not for heaven's intervention, John Winchester and Mary Campbell would have never been married. You and Sam had to be born, though. It would have thrown the world out of balance if you had not been. Your father was a Righteous Man and once he sold his soul and went to hell, he never weakened in hell. He endured the constant torture that he was put through until the very moment he was able to escape through that hell gate you and Sam opened a couple years ago. He now lives in heaven with Mary. They are in peace again, Dean. Forever. We knew your father would remain strong in hell. He knew what was at risk when he made the deal, so we didn't interfere with his fate. But you are also righteous Dean. You have been heaven-bound since before you were even born. Sam on the other hand.. The second we found out that your soul had been dragged down into the pit, we knew we had to save you. Several angels, including myself, flew in and retrieved your weak and punished soul. We were too late though. Not knowing what it would cause, no reason for you not to give in, you spilled the blood of many souls in hell. You did as you were bid and became something else entirely.. You broke the first seal, Dean.” Castiel's face was seemingly expressionless, but in the very second, as he said those last few words, Dean could make out sympathy and sorrow deep within the endless blue. 

“I.. I don't understand, Castiel. What are seals? Why was I able to break it? What did I do?” Dean's voice rose several octaves higher as each question passed his lips. A sinking feeling was beginning to make him feel nauseous. The answer he would receive was nothing he could have prepared himself for.

“Breaking the first seal allows the demons to start releasing the other remaining seals that they will need. They will need to break 65 more out of a possible 600 seals to reach their goal. I'm not sure if our forces can defend that many seals.. We are far outnumbered but we will give all we've got defending them.. Dean, once the 66th seal breaks, Lucifer walks free.” Castiel's voice became so grim that it scared Dean. The usually white aura around him was now a darkened gray color. Dean felt himself pale at the angel's words.

All the air seemed to escape Dean just then. His chest tightened painfully and he felt a panic attack starting. Tears stung at his eyes and threatened to spill out at any second, but he choked them back using the little bit of strength he still had. The angel didn't know what to do about all the human emotions, so he let Dean process all this in silence. Worry made his aura blurry and Dean wanted to just be held close to the comforting glow. Finally, through his shortness of breath, he managed out the words, “Why didn't you just leave me down there then? I'm no good here obviously. I'll fuck it up again I'm sure..”

The angel squinted at him again. “Heaven could use you Dean. You can help us stop the demons from from breaking any more of the remaining seals. Of course we couldn't leave you down there. We couldn't just abandon you to the demons. You're a valuable asset to Heaven. You don't belong down there. You deserve heaven when your time comes.” Castiel tilted is head to the side as he said this. He was confused as to why Dean would ask such a question. How he could have that much self hatred. Then it hit him. “You don't think you deserve to be saved.”

“Of course I don't!” Dean growled out, gripping the sheets tight, balling his fists up tight. A thought popped in his head just then. “What makes me different from my father? How was he able to resist it and I wasn't? I always knew he was a better man than I could ever hope to be.” He gritted his teeth at his own words. He spent a lifetime looking up to his dad, and wanted nothing more than to make him proud and follow in his footsteps. Dean was always a fuck up in his fathers eyes, though, and it looks like that wasn't about to end. 

Castiel's lips parted slightly and he seemed to ponder about how he'd answer Dean's question for several long minutes. He sat on the end of the bed and let his wings drape over the edges of the bed, the right brushing against Dean's leg gently. The contact made both of them shudder, but he didn't remove the wing. When the angel was that close to Dean, he couldn't help but feel calmer. But he wasn't sure how. “John Winchester knew all about the seals. He knew he'd be able to break the first seal if he was to ever go to hell. He used this knowledge to keep himself from giving into the demon's motives. He didn't tell you because he never imagined you would copy his actions and follow him into the pit several years later. It was foolish, but he was trying to protect you. You didn't know, Dean.” The glow around Castiel seemed to beckon to Dean, begging to let it comfort him. 

Dean stared at him with a hopelessness in his green eyes. “It doesn't fucking matter if I knew or not! I started this.. This is my fault. I should have been strong.” Dean clenched his jaw as a single tear fell down his cheek that had escaped unwillingly. He angrily wiped it away with the back of his hand. “How could I have done this, Castiel? I hurt so many down there. I became the very thing that used to hunt and kill. I was an absolute monster. Yet, you make me sound like God himself. I deserve death.” Dean hung his dead in shame, unable to look at the heavenly being beside him. He wondered why Castiel wasted his time with explaining all of this to Dean.

He gasped as a wave of strong emotions fell over him. His spirit calmed steadily down, as is flowed through his body. It seemed to come from his very core. Images began to spark around his head, weak at first, but soon Dean could only see the pictures that were being forced onto him. His own eyes were useless while Castiel took over. Once he was able to process what he was seeing, he nearly cried out at what he was seeing. Through the angel's eyes, he saw how broken and damaged his soul became when he was discovered in hell. Even through all the harm that his soul endured, it was still sickeningly beautiful. Then Castiel's vision switched to see what the soul was doing and Dean saw himself standing there with a knife. He had an evil, disgusting grin that he didn't recognize on himself. He then started to carve away at a helpless victim before it was quickly changed to when Castiel was holding Dean tightly against him, flying them out of hell. He then experienced what Castiel did once they busted out and the sensation was phenomenal. He felt something inside the angel brush against his soul, leaving him feeling whole and blissful. In an instant, Dean saw the angel's true form. He was so very tall. Taller than anything he's ever witnessed for himself. Dean looked so tiny in the hands of the graceful being, like an ant compared to a human. The angel had multiple heads of different animals, each captivating in their own way, and wings so large, that they could darken a whole city if we spread them out entirely. His body was long and thin. It was pale, but with blue markings that Dean couldn't possibly identify that covered him from head to toe. When Dean saw how his hands were shaped, suddenly the marking on his shoulder made sense. That was the mark of their bond. The angel was so strikingly beautiful that it made Dean shake. Another image filled Dean's head and it took Dean a second to process what he was seeing. Castiel was showing Dean what he saw at this very second. Dean was curled up in a tight ball, sobbing and shivering. Looking through Castiel's eyes, Dean turned to meet the angel's eyes with a shocked expression, and what he saw filled him with such unexpected happiness, a bubble of laughter escaped from his throat. 

Through the angel's vision, when Dean's gaze met his, Castiel was staring straight into his precious soul. Dean's soul was so blindingly beautiful that he wondered how the angel could stand to stare at him the way he does. Then it dawned on him that the overwhelming happiness that came over him just seconds ago wasn't his own. That was what Castiel felt every time he saw Dean's fully healed and healthy soul. What Castiel felt for Dean when it came to his soul, made him feel weak, yet strong in ways he couldn't comprehend. His soul was the most pure thing Castiel has ever seen. Somehow he sensed that this is the reason why the angel was showing him all this. There was no longer any damage to his show, no more of the evil it contained in hell. It was as if he had been reborn. 

The images slowly faded away, leaving Dean feeling light and almost happy. He was able to see through his own eyes again. He was still lost in the eye's of the angel's when he realized how Castiel was staring at him. He had much more emotion played out on his face than ever before on his usual blank face. His aura was alive and active after showing Dean what he saw in him. The angel cared for Dean, he realized. That's why he stuck around. Suddenly, Castiel's hand was on his cheek in a tight gesture, trapping his eyes in his intense gaze.

“If there was ever a person that deserved to be saved, it'd be you, Dean Winchester.” His eyes remained locked with Dean's for several moments. Many unsaid things passed between them, but Dean couldn't place any of it. Finally Castiel broke the connection and went to go stand by the window. Dean took in a large breath of air, like he had forgotten to breath that whole time. He didn't understand how the angel affected him like that. 

“What's the deal, Cas? Why are you showing me all this? Why is it so important to you that I see what you do in me? I can also see this weird aura around you that is extremely distracting.. Is that – like – an angel thing?” Dean had endless questions yet again and they came spilling out of his lips in a single drawn-out breath. He probably would have asked more, but he needed to stop to breath for a second. Something he has forgotten to do several times that day. Plus he didn't want to overwhelm the angel with too many questions, worried that he might shut down and stop being so open with him.

The glow around him got a bit brighter before Castiel turning back to Dean and narrowed his eyes at him. “No Dean, it's not an 'angel thing',” he said, exasperated, complete with air quotes and all. “I showed you what I see you in because you needed it. The self loathing you have within you is only tearing you down and making you weaker. You needed to see how flawless your soul is, regardless of the mistakes you have made in the last. You're important. I can't explain how yet, but I know you are going to be able to save it all Dean. You might have to sacrifice everything, but I know you will do what is right. As for the light you see around me.. Well, that's from my Grace. Even though it's hidden within this vessel, you can see the radiance it puts off because we are bonded. My mark is proof of our bond. When I pulled you out of the pit, your soul and my Grace became one for a fraction of a second. Barely any time at all, but it was enough. It left us with this..connection. No one has ever experienced this before. I'm not even aware of the limitations of the bond, so I'm learning just as you are. It shocked me that you could see my wings, though. Bond or no bond. I can obviously send my memories to you, or allow you to see through my eyes whenever I will it. I'm not sure if you can prevent it, but if you ever need me to stop, I will sense it and drop whatever I'm doing immediately. I can sense your emotions and longings, so it won't be hard for me to tell when to do and not do certain things. I can't force you into feeling specific emotions, but I can help you into sleep, or calmness. Other feelings too I'm sure, but I haven't any need yet to push anything. I can heal you through the bond, like I did with your soul. With my Grace, I was able to nurture you from heaven but I still came by a few hours of the day to make sure you were okay with my own eyes. When I don't control if, you can hear my thoughts, as we've found out, just as if I've said it aloud. I assume I can do this no matter where I'm at. As for you, I could hear you without the bond even, if you were to pray to me. Just address me in your head, and all you have to do is speak to me normally. I'll hear you and I'll come as soon as I can. This is all very confusing and the angels don't like it. We aren't supposed to get close to humans, Dean. I'll need to be weary of how often I see you from now on. Only call on me if you absolutely need it.” Castiel stared down at Dean as he slowly stated the last part. He didn't look like he liked this rule. 

Dean glanced down at his hands, thinking about all that Castiel has told him. So many questions that he wanted to bombard on the angel with, but he couldn't think how to word most of them properly. Finally, something he asked about something that really interested him. “I saw your true form.”

The angel frowned deeply at this, but didn't say anything. His reaction wasn't what Dean was expecting, so he continued on in a hurry. “It was the most exquisite part of the vision that I've ever seen, Cas. Why are you hiding it now? Are you possessing someone? You did mention a vessel..” Dean suddenly felt alarmed when the question spilled from his lips. Angel possession was still possession, regardless of who's good and who's bad. 

Castiel looked almost stunned when Dean had given him the unexpected compliment. His Grace got a bit brighter and the frown he wore vanished completely. Slowly recovering, he replied, “You..you thought my true form was appealing? I would rather you not seen my true form, and if you ever did, I expected you to be terrified or find it repulsing. I never imagined.... Humans wouldn't look at us the same way if they knew how we really looked. But that's not why I'm not in my true form now. My true form is entirely too large for this world, as I'm sure you've seen. Yes, I can change my size, so that's not really an issue, but there is only a small percent of humans that can look at us directly. Most humans would have their eyes seared out of their skull upon viewing our true forms. You can imagine how that would cause problems. I assume the reason you're not blind and writhing on the floor is another result of the bond. As for this vessel,” he paused and looked down at his trench coat. He toyed with his crooked tie as he said his next words. “His name was Jimmy Novak. He was a man of devout religion. He devoted his life to faith in our Father, so he had no family. He had always wanted to serve a higher purpose, and prayed for it every night. When I came to him, he had been shot in a robbery and bleeding out rapidly. I asked him if I could use his vessel while he would rest peacefully in heaven. With his dying breath, he agreed. He's very happy in heaven, Dean. I have visited him a couple times since his passing. It's only me in here. I couldn't enter a vessel without permission anyways, Dean. I'm not here to possess any one.” Castiel had a slight smile on his face as he talked about Jimmy being in heaven. Dean visibly relaxed once he was sure that the angel wasn't holding a poor soul against his will and he was going to be trapped inside his own head whenever the angel inhabited the vessel. It pleased him to know Cas was the only one with him in the room.

Looking past the angel's brilliant Grace, Dean looked closely at the vessel that he had chosen. His skin was tanned, a bit darker than his own. He had five-o-clock shadow, like he had missed shaving for a few day, but it went well with his complexion. His dark hair was an absolute wreck. The brown mess stuck out in every direction with a slight wave to them. Dean had the sudden desire to run his fingers through the angel's dark locks and see how soft it felt beneath his fingertips but kept his hand in his lap, his palm twitching slightly. Dean recalled how the skin around Castiel's eyes would scrunch up before he even gave the slightest smile. He decided right then that we would give anything to hear him laugh at some point and flash him a toothy grin someday. Even through his layers of clothes, Dean would tell he had an athletic body. Abruptly Dean realized how he was examining the angel and he wondered why he cared so much how he looked. 

Castiel seemed to sense where Dean's thoughts have drifted off to, because he glanced down with a look of discomfort. Dean's cheeks burned in embarrassment. That part of the bond was going to be annoying enough without him having such..observations. He quickly decided he would be careful from now on about what he thought about. Something dawned on Dean that the angel had said earlier. 

“What were you getting at when you mentioned earlier that I was supposed to go to heaven, and you cut off when you had said Sam's name?” Dean didn't like that Castiel stopped when he had said Sam's name and never brought it back up. It left a twisted feeling in his gut and when the angel met his eyes with a sad gleam in them, his heart squeezed painfully. He was terrified of the answer that he was about to receive. 

“You don't want to know his destined path, Dean. You won't accept it and it will hurt.” Castiel's blue eyes had a raging storm in them as he looked at Dean. Something snapped in him, and in a few short seconds, he had his hand twisted in the angels collar, bringing his face close to his with a fierce glare.

“Tell me, Castiel. I deserve to know! He's my brother and I would kill for him. I'm a grown man and can handle anything that you tell me.” Dean growled out and released the angel. Castiel never even flinched. Something felt different in Dean whenever he was that close to the angel, but he wasn't sure what to take from it, or if it was good or bad. 

“You won't have to kill for him, Dean. He'll do enough killing for himself.” Castiel said after several moments of tense silence. It looked like it truly pained Cas to admit this to Dean. He wanted to protect him, not hurt him further with the possible future. Dean's only reply to the angel's words was stunned muteness, so he went on. “You are the one true vessel for Michael, Dean. He's a very power archangel. Perhaps heaven's strongest. He will only come to you and ask to use your vessel once Lucifer is free from his cage. You are the last thing he will need to end Lucifer once and for all. Lucifer, however, will find the most convenient vessel until he can dig his way into his true vessel. You see, Michael and Lucifer once loved each other very much. They still do in a sense, I assume. They were close brothers, until Lucifer fell. So they needed two close brothers to end this.. You and Sam. Dean, Sam is Lucifer's one true vessel. If he breaks free from his cage, he won't rest until Sam says yes to him taking over his body. The fight will kill thousands of people, including you and your brother, but ultimately save the planet from Lucifer's destruction.” Dean was almost too numb inside to feel the black wing that touched his side in attempted comfort. 

He knew what the angel was about to tell him was going to be bad, but he never imagined that it would be that awful. His face fell into his hands once again in misery. Why them? Life has never been that great to Sam and Dean, but at least they've always had each other. This would rip them apart and pit them against each other and that was just too much for Dean to accept. Even heaven and hell can't leave them alone to be happy. It just wasn't fucking fair. There were truly cursed. Killing Sam was just something Dean could not do, and would do anything to prevent it. No matter the cost. He went to hell last time he saved Sam and he would do it all over again if he had to.

Castiel spoke softly, careful not to set Dean off. “If we stop the seals from breaking, this won't ever come to be, Dean. We can prevent this from ever being the case, and you won't have to hurt Sam. You can go back to hunting and working cases if you wish. Just help whenever heaven calls on you, Dean.” He just nodded to the angel, not meeting his eyes.

A sudden urge to see his brother welled up in his chest and he needed to know that his brother was okay. “Where's Sam?” He asked Castiel. 

“He's in Texas working a case the last I checked. I've been watching over him, Dean, almost as closely as I've been watching you. I knew you'd want him to be safe while you were..out, and ask for him sooner or later.” Dean smiled gently at the angel to show his gratitude before the angel continued talking. Dean would forever be in this angel's debt. “You were in hell for four months. That feels like forty years for anyone that's been down there. You've been back on earth for two weeks, in a constant state of rest. Sam misses you Dean. He prays for you almost nightly.” 

Dean nodded absentmindedly at what the angel said to him. 2 weeks fresh out of hell and his soul was practically brand new, and he had Castiel to thank for it. Remembering where he was at, Dean asked Cas how he had been able to afford the motel room for the last couple of week. The angel looked slightly abashed when answering. 

“Well..angels can make humans forget certain things or put projections up in their minds so they see something differently than what is really there. So, I picked the smallest motel around, and I tampered with a mind or two. I made the clerk forget that he had 100 rooms, only 99. The maid doesn't see a door once she passed room 99, only more wall. Once we leave, each of their memories and vision will go back to normal, so it isn't permanent.” The angel looked so guilty while admitting this to Dean, that he couldn't prevent the little bout of laughter that slipped out of his throat. The angel looked at him sharply and squinted at him, pulling in his eyebrows tight.

It took a few moments for Dean to sober up, ad he gently laid a hand on the wing that still rested against his arm and said, “I want to see Sam, Cas.”

“Then I shall take you to him.” Castiel wrapped his wings around Dean's frame as they stood. The gesture felt so safe, it took Dean by surprise, and being that close to Cas still felt so alien, but he decided it wasn't a bad feeling. The bond between them was so strong in that moment.

Air whipped around them at an impossible speed, but in a matter of seconds, he came crashing down on a hard wood floor of an abandoned hose that he had no memory of. Dean looked up at Castiel and felt a chill go down his spine when he saw the wrath of heaven itself in his blue eyes. He gripped a long silver blade tightly and Dean knew instantly that something was very wrong.


	4. Hello Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh.. you could say we used to be acquaintances a few years back. You were like a lost puppy, trying to leave your brother, but you went back to him anyways. You always have. If I remember right, you had the hots for the pretty little meatsack I was wearing at the time. She was a kind soul, I almost regret using her. Plus, she liked you too.” She winked and her smirk grew.

Everlasting Affinity

Chapter Four: Hello Stranger

Sam pressed tight against the wall of the abandoned house he was hiding out in. He had found a new lead on Lilith down in south Texas and he's vacated the dump for a little over a week now. The floor beneath him creaked horribly and part of him worried that the old wood would give way underneath him and spit him out harshly on the basement floor. Something about the house gave him the creeps and made him feel uncomfortable. Not only did it look like a cheesy haunted house that B-rated movies seemed to love to kill dumb teenagers in, but he always felt like he was being watched. He searched the dwelling countless times for intruders, but never found anything but an occasional rat. He was trying to lay low though and was avoiding leaving a credit card trail or any paper work that could be traced to him, so he pushed away the weary feeling he got often and focused on the reason he was staying there in the first place. Tracking down Lilith so he could get his brother back. That's all that mattered. 

Moments ago, a knock echoed through the thin walls of the wilting structure. The old door was about to fall off the hinges as it was, and Sam knew whoever was on the other side could easily break it down. He immediately got defensive and pressed his body against the wall beside the door, waiting for his entrant. No one knew where Sam was these days, not even Bobby. Sam felt guilty about not talking to the old man in such a long time. He was always so worried about him since Dean was gone. Sam refused to drag him down in his quest to find his brother though, so he refused to contact Bobby until it was over, if it ever would be. So the probability of who ever was knocking at the door being a friend was little to none and he wasn't taking any chances. He peered out the dusty and partially broken blinds of the window, careful to keep his body out of view, looking out at the little porch that belonged to the house. In front of the ugly white, paint-chipped door stood a short, petite brunette woman that Sam didn't recognize. Her long dark locks fell to her waist in waves and looked like it hasn't been brushed in a few days. She was wearing a worn out black leather jacket that was slightly too big and tight denim jeans that looked entirely too uncomfortable. Not exactly the most ideal fighting clothes. She looked annoyed and had her arms crossed snug against her chest. With a roll of her eyes, she lost her patience to Sam complying and announced that she was coming in. She shoved the door open almost effortlessly and Sam wished he'd taken the time to fix it up before. 

Adrenaline pulsed through his veins as he gripped his demon blade tight. His knuckles were white from the pressure. His chest hurt from his pounding heart, beating loudly in his ears, almost draining out all other noise. He silently moved behind the now open door and waited for it to slam closed before he made his move. As soon as the door smacked into the door frame again, hinges completely broken, so not latching, Sam skillfully and quietly was behind the unsuspecting woman, pressing the blade against her pale throat. She struggled against him for a second, but stopped once she eyed the blade. Her eyes flickered black and Sam knew he made the right choice to not trust anyone who just showed up unexpected. 

“Hey there, feisty. I do like it rough, but we can make time for foreplay later. That's not why I'm here, nor am I here to fight you. We have a history, you and I. It may not be the best, but I hope you can put that behind you to hear me out. I have news about Dean, Sam. Then maybe once we figure things out we can have some fun.” She winked, but was careful to not let herself get cut on the blade still painfully pressing into her throat. She had a cockiness about her that was so familiar, but he couldn't place from who just yet. At the mention of Dean, Sam slowly lowered the knife, but didn't let it out of his grip. He wouldn't trust her for a second, especially not since she had hinted that their past wasn't all that great. She smirked up at him with her big brown eyes. “Nice knife.”

Sam was already annoyed with her and she was grinding on his patience quickly. “Who are you and how do you know my brother and I?” He gritted his teeth as she turned around and stepped back a few feet to look into his eyes with a glaring confidence. She crossed her arms back over her chest, but instead of annoyance, she looked pleased with herself this time. Sam was fuming, but he wasn't sure why his temper was so short today. He was never this anger so easily. His finger twitched, eager to use the blade. 

“Oh.. you could say we used to be acquaintances a few years back. You were like a lost puppy, trying to leave your brother, but you went back to him anyways. You always have. If I remember right, you had the hots for the pretty little meatsack I was wearing at the time. She was a kind soul, I almost regret using her. Plus, she liked you too.” She winked and her smirk grew. 

He felt like he'd just been splashed with cold water as he realized who she was. Saying they had a bad past was an understatement. He instantly hated the smug look on her face a thousand times more and decided to wipe it off her face with the force of his fist contacting her face with a sickening crunch as her nose broke. She fell to the floor beneath him. He wanted to hit her more, take out all the pain that's she has ever caused for Sam and Dean with his fists, but he resisted, cradling his now swollen hand with his other one. She gasped at the pain and glared at him through her dark lashes. Blood poured from her nose and she spat blood at him. “So you enjoy hitting girls now, huh, Sam?” 

“You're no girl.” Sam spat at her and she cracked her nose back into place with a pained whimper. “Meg.”

She flashed him a toothy smile, her teeth stained red as she got back onto her feet. “Bingo, lover boy. Long time, no? I hope you didn't miss my lovely personality too much. I know how you loved my company.” When Sam pressed the demon blade into her stomach, she backpedaled. “Okay, okay. Like I said, I'm not here to fight or to be a snarly bitch to you all day. I've got important news about your brother. You can decide whether you trust me or not after, but you'll want to hear what I have to say, I promise you. If you just hear me out, let me explain to you why I'm here, you can decide what the truth is afterwards. If you don't trust me, I'll leave and you won't ever see me again. But we can both benefit from each other, Sam. We could use each others help.” She relaxed once Sam put the knife down again.

“Talk. You try anything, I'll kill you. If I decide you're lying, you won't be leaving at all. Understood?” Sam's voice was hard and he wanted nothing more than to kill her right then due to the shitstorm she started with his family. But he had to hear what she was there to tell him. It was obviously important to her to tell him, so he'd at least give her that. He pushed away his hatred for the demon long enough for her to get out the reason she was there, and then he'd kill her. He had no intentions of letting her get out alive.

“Crystal clear, Sasquatch. Mind if I sit on the ugly couch ya got over there though? These damn shoes are killing me.' She didn't wait for Sam to answer and went and plopped on the dusty sofa that hasn't been touched in God knows how long. Sam wasn't even willing to sleep on it at night, it looked like it'd give in under his weight. But it only creaked slightly as Meg kicked up her feet and draped them over the arms of the couch. Dust showered her from the impact and she grimaced with annoyance. Sam stood by the doorway of the living area and watched as she made herself cozy, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms loosely over his chest. He kept the demon blade in his palm, and waiting impatiently for her to get on with the reason she was there. 

“Before I start, I just want you to think about something. My bitchiness aside, I know you hate me and you're just over there with an itchy palm, just so eager to use that damn demon blade on me right now. It's obvious you would love to kill me, and I honestly never expected to get this far. So believe me when I say, I wouldn't be here right now if I didn't think it was completely necessary to tell you what's going on downstairs. Well, technically here now. But anyways, I don't like you any more than you like me, so spare me the 'You're a demon and I can't trust you' bullshit, okay? The fact of the matter is that we will both need each other once you know the truth.” She shrugged at Sam and gave him a look that said she wasn't messing around. With no reply from him, she continued on in a huff. “So anyways, there's a tiny little detail you need to know about your brother going down under into the lovely placed called hell. He's been trapped down there for 4 months, not that you're counting I'm sure. But what you don't know is that he's a Righteous human, and was never meant to go down there. I heard he's a fun little play toy for plenty of the demons down there. Well they've been working over time on your brother. Torturing his soul wasn't just fun and games like it is for everyone else. They were trying to break him, and do it quickly. Well a month and a half ago, they succeeded. Dean gave in to them, and I personally can't blame him. It's bad enough down there without them having a real reason to torture you. I can't imagine what he's been though, truly. When he picked up a blade down there and spilled blood for himself, he started something bad, Sam. He broke the first seal. Do you know what that means, Sam?” All her past cockiness was gone from her features and she was now completely solemn and spoke gravely. She was as serious as Sam's ever seen her and that was enough to send a chill down his spine.

But her words made something twist deep in his gut. He was numb as she thought over what she had just said. He did know what that meant. He had read about it a few months back, while reading back over his dad's journal. It was all about the seals and what would happen if the first one ever got broken. This was information that Dean never got to see for himself. Sam knew once the first seal was released, it would only be a matter of time before the remaining 65 would come crumbling down. He also recalled what would happen once the did all fall and he felt cold inside. Sam had no idea his brother was a Righteous man or that he was capable of being the cause to the start of the apocalypse. He never imagined such a thing was possible. His brother was also so careful and regardless of how much Dean endure, he couldn't imagine him actually becoming monster down there. He felt numb as he looked back at the demon in front of him. 

“Meg.. are you sure? Dean would never do that, no matter that. He's tougher than that, I know he is. You had to have heard wrong. Meg, demons lie all the time..” Sam felt lost and Meg cut him off.

“Well, aren't you just a faithful little brother. Always willing to defend him till the end. Well, he still did it, no matter how much you don't wanna believe it. Two more seals have fallen since then. Demons are in an uproar. Its a chaotic war between us all. Some want Lucifer to rise and conquer the earth, and some of us want him to stay put. Then there are those waiting to take sides. Annoying really. It's pandemonium.” Meg rubbed her temples as she said this, no longer bothering to look at Sam. She knew that she had his full attention. Instead, she had her eyes closed and he realized how exhausted she looked. He almost felt bad for breaking her nose and knocking her to the floor a few moments ago. Almost. 

Sam narrowed his eyes at her, even though she wasn't looking at him any longer. He took a step forward and growled at her, “So who's side are you on then? Team Luci? I don't see a reason for you to be defending us humans.” He glared at her as he waiting for her to answer, She definitely took her time about it too.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him as if he were a child, and suddenly he felt stupid for asking the question. “Gee, I don't know Sam. Who's side am I on? Really? I thought you were supposed to be bright, being a college kid and all. If I had waned Lucifer set free, don't you think I'd be fighting the seal battles with my fellow demons, and actually be trying to get him out right now? Newsflash, but that's no t the case. Instead, I'm here talking to a damned Winchester about the situation. Could be me, but I think it's obvious what I want. And that's definitely not for Satan to be free from his cage.” She rolled her eyes dramatically and continued on without waiting for him to retaliate. “Of course I don't want him set free. Any sane demon, and that's very few, know that it won't bring us any freedom. He may have created us all, but he hates our very existence. We are nothing but abominations in his eyes. You think he hates humans? That's nothing compared to what he thinks about us. Once my kind helps him get what he wants he'll kill us all and laugh at the foolish ones that help him get out and think that they'd be rewarded. The only reward we get is a slow and painful death while he looks on us with nothing but hate. So yeah, excuse me if I'm not exactly Team Satan okay? I kinda enjoy living, even if it is a pain in the ass sometimes. I don't want to give up just yet.” She was wiping the blood from her face with her jacket sleeve as she finished.

Sam was frigid. He knew Dean had no idea about the seals or even knew Lucifer existed. when he fell. But he never imagined that this would happen. Not like this. It was a nightmare that was becoming a reality and he wasn't sure he could handle it. His attention drifted back to Meg when she had cleared her throat. He met her eyes and she looked like she was struggling to say her next words. She took a deep breath before she began. 

“Look, I don't know if this is good or bad news but there's something you need to know about Dean, Sam. He isn't in hell anymore. Something pulled him out two weeks ago.” She looked uneasy and it made Sam feel weary.

Sam's breath hitched and his eyes widened in shock. He wasn't sure what Meg meant when she said she didn't know if it was good or bad, but that sure sounded good to Sam. Maybe he could find Dean now. The cold that was looming over him since Dean got dragged down to the pit was slowly easing up on him. He took another step towards Meg and felt his knees shake horribly and he almost buckled carrying his own weight. “Do you know where he is, Meg? Is he alive, and on earth now? Who took him from hell?”

She looked uncertain as she answered his questions. “I don't know where Dean is at now. If I did, I probably would have tried bringing him to you. But is company wouldn't like me too much.. Yes, I believe he's alive and here somewhere. But it's rumored what pulled him out was ang..” Her sentence was cut off by a loud thud in the next room and Meg widened her eyes in fear. She looked panicked as she jumped off the couch and Sam as never seen a demon looked so scared in his life.

“Sam I have to go, if it sees me, it'll kill me. God, even him being here makes me feel weird.” She looked at him with fright. He wondered what could make her act like this.

“No, get behind me. Whatever it is, I'll take care of it. I won't let you get hurt. If it has Dean, we need to kill it. Together.” Sam clutched at the knife harder than ever before as he prepared himself for whatever was behind the door to the bedroom he usually holed himself up in. Whatever could frighten a demon had to be extremely powerful, and couldn't be good at all. He hasn't had to kill anything in over a month and was out of shape for this sorta thing. But he couldn't think about that right now. He had to focus on what was in the next room and getting his brother back.

Sam took a deep breath and counted to three. He could take down whatever was in there. He had to. Three come too quickly, and he kicked the door in. Just like the other door that Meg had broken into, this one broke its hinges just as easy. Taking in the scene before him, he realized nothing in the world could have ever preached him for what he saw. He nearly choked with relief as familiar green eyes met his. 

In front of him, Dean was just getting up on his feet, stumbling slightly. He looked weak, but he help his own and he looked so good compared to the last time he had saw hi brother. A few years younger even. Sam pushed away the memories of his bloody corpse laying on the floor with his face slack and eyes rolled into the back of his skull. He was alive and looked as if that never even happened right before his very eyes. When he met eyes with his younger brother, his lips pulled up in a brilliant smile and Sam wanted nothing more than to walk over to him and pull him into a tight embrace and let nothing ever take him away ever again. The only thing making him hesitant was when he noticed a man step in front of Dean. He was a couple inches shorter than his brother and stood in a protective stance and looked right past Sam straight at Meg. He wore a long trench coat and held a long silver blade out in front of him. His glared at the demon with a savage gaze.

“What's wrong, Cas?” Dean asked him and seemed to reach out and touch something behind the man that only he could see. The tone he spoke to the man with made Sam feel uneasy. He's never heard him speak so gently, not even to Lisa, Dean's ex-wife that died while she was in childbirth. His voice was usually so gruff.

“He's with a demon.” The man hissed. His eyes tarted to glow bluish-white and he was behind Sam in the blink of an eye, shoving him aside and pinning the small demon up against the wall with an invisible force. Her pleas where choked off. She looked at the man and Sam couldn't understand the look on her face. She looked at the man and she wasn't scared anymore. Even as his eyes glowed even brighter and he brought the blade closer to her. Sam promised he wouldn't let anything happen to her, and knew he'd have to act fast. He took the blade and stabbed it into the man's back. Meg was released from his hold and the man turned to glare at Sam. She laid gasping on the floor as the man pulled the knife from his back without even flinching and threw it to the ground.

“She's with me. She came to me to help stop Lucifer. You want to kill her? You're going to have to kill me first.” Sam wasn't sure what compelled him to say such a thing. He was risking his life for the demon who would have traded his for a day at the spa at one point. But it felt right to defend Meg, so that's just what he did. He was scared of how the man would react to Sam's actions, but refused to show his fear. He had never seen that knife fail to kill anything. He was much more powerful than any common demon that Sam was accustomed to coming across. 

The man's eyes settled back into the blue they were before but he didn't put down his blade. He looked at Sam was if he were nothing but a pest. He pointed the long blade in the direction of Meg and growled out, “Trusting demons will get you no where, boy. Will you ever learn that?” He looked back at Meg in disgust but left her alone. 

Sam was suddenly angry and he took a step towards the man who was several inches shorter than him. He wanted to know who and what this man was and what he had done with Dean in his absence. He wanted to know why he was here and what he wanted from his brother. The man made the air in the room feel heavy even. His presence truly scared Sam and yet Dean was seemingly so comfortable around him. He didn't understand.

“Who the hell are you to tell me who I should and should not trust? I don't know who the hell you are or what you've been doing with my brother the last few weeks, but you just show up out of no where and try to decide who I should listen to? I don't think so. What makes you any better than her? You were willing to kill her without so much as a second to see why she's here. Why should I listen to you and not her? You could be the bad one here for all we know.” Sam growled out, glare matching the one the man was giving him. Dean watched the exchange in silence, eyes flickering between the two of them, his brows deep in thought.

The dark haired stranger with the electric blue eyes squinted at him and tilted his head. Suddenly Sam felt so much smaller than him and he wanted to shudder under the stare of his eyes. “I'm the one who pulled Dean out of the pit. I've risked much for him and spent the last two weeks restoring his broken soul back to health. What Dean would be if I had not taken the time to properly heal him, well, let's just say he'd be something you would hunt. I brought him back in one piece and he's healthier than ever. You should respect me.” He never once raised his voice and he didn't have to. Sam shivered at the word and felt powerless next to him. 

“Cas, it's okay. He doesn't understand what is going on yet. Not with our situation. Honestly, I don't completely either, but we'll figure it out okay? And I'll catch Sammy up on everything that you've told me. He's shocked, just like I was. And if she tries anything, Cas,” Dean gestured to Meg, “we are capable of taking care of her. I'm not sure why Sam was protecting her, but it had to be for a good reason. He did say that she wanted to stop Lucifer.” 

The man sighed and turned to look at Dean and his eyes instantly softened. He said nothing, but he didn't have to. The look that passed between the two of them almost made Sam blush and feel embarrassed. It was so...intense. It was a look that only they should be there for, like they completely forgot two other people were in the room with them. He turned away and his cheeks burned. He didn't know what was going on between them, but whatever it was, Sam wasn't sure he liked it. They seemed so connected to each other.. It something he has never seen. Especially with his brother, who always remained distant to everyone but Sam. It seemed like an eternity before Sam noticed that the man that Dean had called “Cas” winced and fell to his knees with his head in his hands. He groaned as Dean rushed over to him and pulled his face up for their eyes to meet once again. Dean's faced was creased with worry and the man stood back up and stuffed his hands in the deep pockets of the trench coat. He had eyes only for Dean as he said, “I have to go. My brothers are calling to me. I have duties to attend to.” He paused and looked as if he wanted nothing more than to stay by Dean's side. He then shot Meg a glare who had stood silently up during their exchange and was watching Dean and Cas with awe. 'If she tries to hurt you, call to me Dean. I will come.”

Dean nodded to him and in a hushed whisper said “thank you”. With an invisible flap of wings, the man disappeared right before Sam's eyes. He breathed deep and relaxed slightly as he met Dean's eyes again.

Meg let out a low whistle and leaned against the wall behind her. “So that's what an angel's like huh? He made me feel so...clean. Not bad, Dean.” Her joking aside, what she said made Sam freeze. Angel?

Dean's arms were around him in a matter of seconds, completely ignoring the demon behind Sam. He relaxed into the arms of his older brother and wanted to cry in relief of having him back. No matter what was going on with them and the strange man/angel, the fact that Dean was back is all that mattered right at this second. After a long, silent embrace, Sam pulled back and looked at his brother who he hasn't seen in months. He did look better now. Whole, maybe. He had to address Meg's theory because it was driving him insane. 

“Was he really an angel, Dean? We didn't even know they existed before now and you seem to be buddy buddy with one now? Honestly I can't explain what I saw between you two. It was strange and didn't seem natural.” Sam questioned him. It was so unlike Dean to trust anyone in general, and he seemed to trust this guy completely. 

“That's because it's far from natural Sammy. Nothing about us is ever natural, so why start now? And besides,” Dean paused and waved a hand towards Meg, “you're questioning my angel when you're holed up in the middle of no where with this demon bitch? Come on, Sam.”

“Nice to see you again too, Dean. Really, I missed you too. Surely you remember me. Meg Masters at your service” She mock bowed and Sam couldn't help the laugh that escaped from his lips. Dean glared at him.

“Looks like me both have things to explain here, huh Sammy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I named this Hello Stanger because honestly I hated the episode Goodbye Stranger so much. I really do miss Meg in the show.
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed chapter four, and I'll post the next as soon as possible. Thanks for reading, loves!


End file.
